


Breaking Fall

by tookumade



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, shrine visits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 23:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16670287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: “Shinsuke?” Akagi looks over his shoulder to see that Kita has stopped in his tracks and is behind them a few steps. The others look at him curiously, and Kita points to a path just a little way up ahead to the left.“Let’s go visit the shrine,” he says. “We haven’t been there in a while.”





	Breaking Fall

**Author's Note:**

> A short fic written for [**_"The Small Things"_**](https://twitter.com/inarizakizine), an Inarizaki Fanzine. The zine's theme was "seasons", and I chose to do autumn.

“Oh, there you are,” Akagi greets Aran when he finally joins the other third years at their school’s main gate in the afternoon. “What took so long?”  
  
“I didn’t do so well on my English test, so I had to speak to my teacher,” Aran answers. “I passed our volleyball club second years near the gym on my way out… they looked like they were all trying to form a human pyramid, so I kept walking. I’m not dealing with that; they can tire themselves out.”  
  
“You are a _terrible_ parent, Aran.”  
  
Akagi dodges when Aran swipes at him, and accidentally steps on Oomimi’s foot in the process.  
  
“Sorry, Ren!”  
  
Oomimi shakes his head. “By the looks of it, you two would tire yourselves out before the second years do.”  
  
“They learn from the best,” says Akagi, grinning.  
  
“Let’s go,” says Kita, shouldering his school bag. The others follow suit, and they shuffle out of school grounds, heading home, with Akagi and Aran still nudging each other.  
  
The leaves on many of the trees they pass are all varying shades of brown, orange, and red. Autumn is in full-swing, and it’s comfortable, cool, and breezy.  
  
At least for now.  
  
Because for them, autumn also means fierce volleyball training and even fiercer matches; it means the Spring High tournament beginning tomorrow, the squeaking of their shoes on the court floor, the roar of victory. Autumn means conquering the prefecture, and then taking their banner to the Nationals in the winter. For them, autumn has never been cool and breezy—but it’s comfortable, in its own way.  
  
“So…” Aran looks around with a little smile. “Anyone nervous for tomorrow? No, I’m not asking you, Shinsuke; I know you’re never nervous.”  
  
Kita just digs his hands deeper into his pockets with a little smile.  
  
“I’m feeing okay,” says Akagi, and Oomimi nods. “I mean, we’re as prepared as we can be, and we’ve always been pretty good at kicking ass at the Spring High, so…”  
  
“Aran’s nervous,” says Oomimi, looking over at him. “Aren’t you?”  
  
“Sorry for not being a robot,” says Aran dryly.  
  
Kita looks at him. “What do you have to worry about, ace?”  
  
Aran glares at him, now mock-accusingly, and says, “That’s _cheating_.”  
  
“Come on, _ace!_ ” says Akagi, elbowing Aran in the ribs. “What are you, an old man who’s on the verge of retiring? No! You’ll score us heaps of points, we’ll win all our matches at the Spring High and go all the way to the Nationals, and then we’ll kick Itachiyama’s asses, you hear me? Shinsuke, Ren, back me up!”  
  
Oomimi gives a snort of laughter, and Kita shrugs serenely. “It’s like you say: we’ll just do what we’ve always done, and we’ll be fine.”  
  
“Three years, and I still don’t understand that confidence of yours,” says Aran with a sigh and a shake of his head. “With you lot, I feel like I couldn’t be seriously nervous even if I tried.”  
  
“And for that, you’re welcome,” says Oomimi. Now, Aran grins a little.  
  
“Shinsuke?” Akagi looks over his shoulder to see that Kita has stopped in his tracks and is behind them a few steps. The others look at him curiously, and Kita points to a path just a little way up ahead to the left.  
  
“Let’s go visit the shrine,” he says. “We haven’t been there in a while.”  
  
“Oh? You want say a prayer to the gods before the tournament?” says Akagi, already hopping onto some satisfyingly crunchy fallen leaves on the path. “I’ll pray that Aran overcomes his nerves.”  
  
“ _Oi!_ ” says Aran indignantly, swiping at him again. “I’ll pray the twins don’t learn to be a jackass like you!” Cackling, Akagi breaks into a sprint with Aran hot on his heels. Kita and Oomimi exchange an exasperated smile, and follow along.  
  
The truth is, no matter the occasion, they all like this shrine. It’s a small one, abandoned a few decades ago after the war ended, but occasionally lightly swept and maintained by elderly people who live nearby and can’t let go of their nostalgia, or, more rarely, by younger people who similarly enjoy the peace of the area. No one leaves money at the shrine anymore, and the few food offerings anyone does leave usually gets eaten by foxes and other wild animals before nightfall. The purification water basin near the entrance has cracked and half of it has crumbled, the wood is rotting in parts of the shrine’s gates and structures, some of the gardens are overgrown and some of the trees are much too tall, but in the autumn, the colours are spectacular—warm, in the cooling weather.  
  
They like to think that the gods are still listening, sometimes.  
  
“Do you think,” Oomimi murmurs as they approach the run-down offering hall, drop their bags to the side, and then bow and clap their hands together, “that if I pray that Suna will stop slacking off in matches, the gods will punish me for asking for too much?”  
  
Aran huffs a laugh as he closes his eyes, his palms pressed together. Beside him, Akagi is snickering. Kita is smiling slightly too, but doesn’t say anything.  
  
“You could give it a try,” says Aran. “I’m praying that the twins don’t get into a fight at least until the Spring High quarter-finals.”  
  
“Only until the quarter-finals?”  
  
“Like you said: I can’t ask for too much.”  
  
Akagi is barely fighting back his laughter. “ _Guys_ ,” he hisses, “I’m trying to pray respectfully, here! Shinsuke, do something!”  
  
“I can’t,” Kita murmurs, eyes closed and hands together in prayer as well. “I’m praying for the same things.”  
  
“ _Shinsuke!_ ”  
  
If the gods are still listening, maybe they could forgive them this—this lull, this moment of peace in their fierce autumn, this joking around, this laughing together before time eventually forces them to go their separate ways. If the gods are still here, maybe they could slow down time for them just a little bit.  
  
But honestly—whether or not they are still here, still listening, doesn’t really matter, does it? The world will keep turning.  
  
Kita finishes his prayer first. He bows once more before the offering hall, then lets his hands fall by his sides, and steps back, the soles of his shoes scraping against the ground softly as he retrieves his bag. His friends hear him, finish their own prayers, and then pick up their bags, too. They turn to him, and the four of them grin at each other.  
  
“Let’s go,” says Kita. “Go home, get a good night’s sleep tonight, and then tomorrow—”  
  
“We’ll do what we’ve always done, and we’ll be fine,” says Aran, and Oomimi and Akagi both nod. Kita turns and begins to head out of the shrine grounds, past the brilliant reds and oranges of the nearby trees. The others fall into step beside him. They’ll all keep walking, the world will keep turning—and it’s comfortable, cool, and breezy.  
  


 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/naffnuffnice)   
> 


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